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A sunny afternoon.
And the seats were out
Waiting for the sun
To come round
But they were empty
No more fun
No one to drink it in.
The bar is closed
Convivial loss
No one to stand and drink
The place is shut
So don’t walk in
To sit and sip
A cool one.
You birthday was today
But there is no voice
No laughter
No sudden shout
Of annoyance or glee.
You were here, then gone
Lost in space
Not forgotten by me
But gone from the world
We always held hands
Grasping our dreams
Let’s go out
Take a trip?
Now I stay still
Remembering but not visiting
Still waiting
For your non return.
Not been out, not felt well
Achy bones, tummy pain
Been asleep, tired all day
All my foods been thrown away
I feel like s***, I want to cry
I’m fed up and not feeling spry
I’ve done my best but not been blest
With good health? No!
So I’m stressed!
He’s moving in, cut back his garden, and I feel encroached on. For the last few days he’s been burning the plants he cut down. I explained I want to put the washing on the line so he said he would stop, so I put a load of washing on a fast wash. Span it a couple of times. Meanwhile the smoke abated. I decided to do some washing up and to empty the bins. When I looked again? The smoke had started up again.
He appears to be OK, but I feel a bit bullied. Next door was empty for a year, which was peaceful. But now he’s pestering me to get my garden cut back. I’ll get it tidied, but it’s going to cost thousands to cut down and I don’t want to, it’s my nature haven. With him on one side and the shop on the other hacking at my hedge I feel like I’m being assaulted from both sides. I feel less safe than when things were emptied. Now he’s taking my brown bin to put garden rubbish in. I’m letting him use it once but I have explained it’s my bin and I pay to have it emptied.
Walk that lonely road,
Carry a heavy load
Head down with your thoughts
Tangled up and caught.
Never look around
Don’t listen to the sound
Of singing birds
Or spoken words…
They are hidden
And are unbidden
From you world
Mind unstirred
Alone.
grr. Grr!
Annoyed. We had a box of shortbread biscuits for Christmas, we have had a few. My hubby more than me. The box is on top of the fridge. So I went into the kitchen to make us coffee and get the last few biscuits. Guess what? The box was there, but empty. I’m annoyed.
At least throw the box away once it’s empty. Don’t leave it there to tempt me. He does the same with tubs of butter, bananas (yes he left an empty skin on the fruit bowl!), or he finishes strawberries off and doesn’t throw away the punnet. He finishes bottles of milk without leaving some for my coffee.
Grr.
Mallaband-Brown